


Wasteland

by citizen101erased



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: I mean the real end: death of earth and all that, M/M, The End of the World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 22:43:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21126464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citizen101erased/pseuds/citizen101erased
Summary: Having seen the first two humans leave Eden, Aziraphale and Crowley now watch the last two humans before the Earth dies.





	Wasteland

**Author's Note:**

> _Be still, my indelible friend_   
_You are unbreaking_   
_Though quaking_   
_Though crazy_   
_That's just wasteland, baby_
> 
> _And the day that we watch the death of the sun_   
_That the cloud and the cold and those jeans you have on_   
_That you gaze unafraid as they saw from the city ruins_
> 
> _Wasteland, baby_   
_I'm in love_   
_I'm in love with you_
> 
> (Hozier - Wasteland, baby!)

Earth was born on 4004 BC. Days weren’t named yet back then, as neither humanity nor language had been invented yet. 

But by the time it ends, humanity, and everything connected to it, has been invented and has largely disappeared again. So the Earth dies around dinnertime on a Monday evening. 

Not that humanity would know - whatever was left of them was spread out among the stars, having left the planet and the solar system and gone off to boldly explore the final frontier, as they once said. 

Angels and demons too have moved on. There are almost none left here now. Well, none, save for two.

The angel Aziraphale is currently standing on the eastern wall of what used to be a citadel. It’s now a crumbly wall, in the middle of a desert, surrounding mostly ruins. But scattered among the ruins are the last remaining plants, two goats, and one tree with fruit that looks suspiciously like apples, although Aziraphale knows from experience they taste nothing like the apples of yore. It’s all he could do - it already took enough miracles to have apples to begin with. There’s a limit even to miracles when the sun is scorching the planet. 

Also within the walls are the last two humans on earth, and a serpent. It’s the serpent Aziraphale has been waiting for while he watches the humans. 

“Everything’s really come full circle, hasn’t it?” the serpent says as he transforms into Crowley next to Aziraphale. Together they watch as the humans herd the goats to a different patch of grass, a hundred yards away over piles of rubble and dust. They’re covered in so many protective layers against the sun that all that’s visible of them is some dark shapes with only the suggestion of human bodies moving around. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Aziraphale says. “Adam and Eve had a much easier time of it when they were still in Eden. These two have to really work for it.” 

“We could help them, you know.” 

“Crowley, dear, why do you think I’m here?” 

Crowley shrugs as he turns to look Aziraphale. He stopped wearing sunglasses about two thousand five hundred years ago, and his bright yellow eyes stare at Aziraphale in unblinking surprise. 

“Aziraphale! Going against God, are you?” 

Aziraphale rolls his shoulders back as he huffs. “They don’t deserve this, you know. God might not care, but I do.” 

Crowley stares at him a moment longer. All these years, and Aziraphale still manages to surprise him. 

Honestly, he shouldn’t be that surprised. He’d known, quite literally, since the beginning that this incredibly soft-looking angel also had an actual flaming sword that he then gave to the first humans so they could keep themselves safe. This isn’t particularly out of character for him. Still, he’s so good at pretending to be the loyal principality that it’s easy to forget he disobeys God’s orders all the time if it suits him. 

Although Crowley supposes the most surprising thing here is Aziraphale easily admitting to ignoring orders. The times really have changed. 

“Did you find our Adam then?” Aziraphale asks, watching the humans slowly but surely making their way, carefully balancing on loose rocks while carrying bleating goats under layers of fabric. It’s impressive, what humans can do when necessary. 

“I did,” Crowley confirms as he pulls his hand up. A rock dangling dangerously from the wall suddenly, miraculously slides away before it can crush the humans. “He’s quite cheerfully off gallivanting through space on a cowboy spaceship. Apparently they found a planet with dinosaurs. I don’t know how much of that was him imposing his own childhood wishes on reality, but he’s definitely happy.” 

He really is. Crowley had seen him, still looking barely older than twenty-five despite being thousands of years old by now. Being the Antichrist has its perks. 

Adam had had some interesting things to say, too. Something about tea with God (“she’s basically my grandma, after all”) and a plan to return demons to heaven, turn them back into angels. 

Crowley has been done with God’s plans for a while now and, since the Armageddon-that-wasn’t, has tried his very best to stay as far away from them as demonically possible. This one is intriguing though. So he does what he always does: talk it over with Aziraphale. 

“And what do you think about this plan?” Aziraphale asks afterwards.

“I don’t know, angel. I’ve been a demon for so long, apparently unforgivable, irredeemable. I don’t think I’d even know what to do with myself.” 

Aziraphale smiles in that soft way that Crowley knows as I love you but you’re being an idiot. “Why, you’d just be you, of course,” he says very matter-of-factly.

“Yes, of course, obviously,” Crowley splutters, rolling his eyes. “What else would I be, an aardvark?” 

Aziraphale laughs out loud at this, his laughter ringing through the empty spaces. No one hears it except Crowley and the two humans, but they’re so busy and so wrapped up he suspects they could stand right next to them and they wouldn’t know. It brings Crowley irrational joy that Aziraphale’s laugh is one of the last sounds on this planet. What a lovely sound to end with. 

“What is it with you and aardvarks, anyway? I remember you using the same comparison back in ancient Rome, too,” says Aziraphale, still giggling. 

“Maybe I’m just that predictable,” he muses, before he comes to a realization. “Actually, you know what? I don’t think I really care either way about this new plan. As long as whatever I end up being or doing, I can do it together with you.” 

“Oh, darling,” Aziraphale beams. “I love you, too.” 

They remain silent after that, watching together as the humans finally reach the next patch of grass just as the sun starts to explode. All that effort, for nothing. There’s nothing either of them can do to save the planet, not this time. 

Humanity itself is fine. They know that. All those stars Crowley had made eons ago, that he thought he created for the sake of creating, finally people are there, spreading music and food and joy and laughter, and creating more places for him and Aziraphale to go and explore, together. 

And maybe that had been the plan all along. Maybe God’s ineffable plan had been a very elaborate plot for the two of them to meet. It’s the only explanation Crowley likes, so it’s the one he runs with, even if he’s not about to tell Aziraphale this. He is still, technically, a demon after all. No need to get too sappy. 

They watch the dying sun set on everything they once loved so much which has now returned to dust. 

Crowley wraps a black wing around Aziraphale. Both of them know Aziraphale doesn’t need it — they will survive this, as they have survived so many things together — but neither of them will say it. 

Instead, they say what they always say. 

“Where to next, angel? I’ll drive you, anywhere you want to go.” 

“I hear Alpha Centauri’s lovely this time of year.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on [Tumblr](https://throwing-roses-into-the-abyss.tumblr.com)!
> 
> This fic is very much inspired by Hozier's 'Wasteland, baby!' (And yes, I know my fics are basically all named after Hozier songs. It's his own fault for writing such good lyrics.)
> 
> Thank you to [redactednp](https://redactednp.tumblr.com) for betaing and teaching me a lot of English grammar!


End file.
